


A Christmas Rendezvous

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Sam Winchester in a Santa Suit, Smut, prompt, proposal, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Christmas fic includes an old prompt I was given by @yoursupernaturalsammygirl which was “Meet me alone at midnight” with Sam. </p><p>Monsters don’t take holidays. You and the Winchesters don’t have a chance to celebrate Christmas right because you’re on a hunt at a hotel. On Christmas Eve, when the hunt is over, Sam arranges for you to meet him in a certain hotel room at midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!!!

The snowy plains blur past at an alarming rate. Dean really shouldn’t be driving this fast in the wintertime but, unlike you, he’s confident in his abilities to handle his Baby–even on an icy road.

You’re curled up in the backseat and using one of Sam’s old carhartt jackets as a blanket because the heat doesn’t reach past the front seat. You’re resting your head against the window but it’s uncomfortable and the speed at which the scenery passes is disorienting. So you turn your attention to the back of your boyfriend’s head.

The sight of Sam’s soft brown hair is too tempting to resist. You end up reaching forward, wrapping your arms around Sam’s shoulders and linking your hands together on his chest. You nuzzle his neck, kissing him through his hair and nipping at his earlobe. You can feel Sam’s chuckle through your hands on his chest. Sam covers your hands with his own hand. He turns his head enough for his lips to meet yours.

“Hey hey, knock it off. No nookie in my car,” Dean scolds you both and you giggle. If only Dean actually knew how far you and Sam have gone in the impala and how many times…

You pout and rest your chin on Sam’s left shoulder. “What are the chances that we can actually be home for Christmas?” you ask. It’s actually three days before Christmas Eve and while you’re all heading in the direction of the bunker, you’re unsure of whether or not you’ll be making a stop on the way. Dean doesn’t let you get your hopes up.

“We won’t be.” You moan and grumble with disappointment.

“Why can’t we have a real Christmas for once? Especially now that we have a home at the Bunker.”

“I know. I know, it’s a real bummer. But monsters don’t take holidays. Just be happy that we’re going to be in a nicer hotel than usual,” Dean says, gesturing for Sam to explain further.

“We’ve got a haunting at an old 5 star hotel. Probably a simple salt and burn,” Sam explains, pulling out his phone to show you an obscure article referencing a ghost disturbance.

“Then why can’t it wait until after Christmas?”

“Because it’s active right now. It’s actually most active around Christmas.”

“Well that’s depressing,” you say, slumping back into your seat. Sam reaches back with his left hand to rub your knee.

“Hey, Babe, cheer up. The hotel is probably gonna be decorated. And maybe you and I can get our own room?” he suggests with a flirty twinkle in his eyes. You chew on your bottom lip and squirm under Sam’s gentle touch on your leg. He deliberately slides it up as far as he can reach.

“Hey, dude! What did I _just_ say?” Dean barks. Sam retracts his hand after winking at you. You curl up on the backseat, pull out another hoodie and use it as a pillow, trying to get some shut eye before you reach your destination.

 

* * *

 

The three of you deal with the ghost by Christmas Eve afternoon by performing the usual salt and burn on a locket that originally belonged to the ghost.

Sam was right about the hotel being decorated for Christmas. It was beautiful and extravagant with a fifteen foot tall tree in the foyer, decorated with silver garland and blue and red ornaments. There’s even a large chair where a Santa sat the previous day with children on his lap. And then there’s mistletoe _everywhere._ Since you’d finished the case, Sam has made it his personal goal to kiss you under every single one. You’re not complaining.

But Dean is..

Unfortunately, the three of you had to stay in the same room. There are actually several guests still staying at the hotel; they were likely unaware of the ghost. (A five-star hotel probably knows how to handle bad publicity.)

Sam and you share a bed as usual, and every morning you’ve woken up wrapped in his strong arms, and his morning wood poking you in the ass. You’re frustrated about not being able to do anything about it. You’ve finally given up on thinking about having a normal Christmas; Winchesters just don’t get those. But if you’re honest…all you really want for Christmas is to be alone with your boyfriend, Sam.

The two of you have been together for more than a year now…which is impressive by hunter standards. Every holiday has passed by without a chance to celebrate and you’d hoped that maybe Christmas would be different but alas…

You’re walking down the town’s main street with a bag of food just before dark when Sam texts you.

**_“Meet me in Room 322 at midnight. Alone.”_ **

You have no idea what Sam is doing since the case is over but you respond with a simple _okay_.

You go to bed alone that night. Dean’s in the room but he has no idea where Sam is–at least that’s what he says before drifting off into a deep sleep. Dean loves this hotel’s featherbeds. You’d be worried about Sam were it not for the standing appointment you have with him.

When it’s 5 minutes to midnight, you quietly get out of bed and sneak out of the room and make your way to the hotel room Sam had mentioned. It’s on the top floor and on the other side of the building, far from Dean.

You can see a dim light through the crack underneath the door. As your phone’s clock strikes midnight, you open the door to a candlelit honeymoon suite with its own fireplace and 6 foot tall Christmas tree.

And standing in front of the roaring fire…is Santa…

That is…if Santa were a thirty-something brunette with muscles and gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Sam?” you say, cautiously, hoping you’re not wrong. How embarrassing would that be? Sure enough, your boyfriend turns around and not only is Sam Winchester wearing a velvety Santa suit without the beard but the coat is hanging open. He’s shirtless underneath and his pants are held up by black suspenders. His tan and muscular torso is put on display for you to stare at hungrily as is the tradition when you and Sam are alone. You still can’t believe that a man as amazing and handsome as him would be interested in you. “What’s going on?”

“Punctual as always, Y/N. Even for a midnight rendezvous.” Sam extends a hand as an invitation for you to come closer. You don’t have to be asked twice. When you’re standing right in front of him, your face is inches away from his bare chest because he’s so much taller than you. You rest your hands on his pecs and revel in the solid muscle and the heat radiating from his body. The heat is matched by the hot center starting to build up deep within you.

“Rendezvous? Is that what you’re calling this?” You chew on your bottom lip. Sam pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He pulls your lip free and then leans down to press a soft and sweet kiss to you lips. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a mistletoe hanging on to the mantle with scotch tape.

“That’s exactly what it is. A secret meeting between lovers.” It so cheesy but you love to hear that last word coming out of Sam’s mouth. “It’s past midnight now, Y/N. It’s officially Christmas. And I have decided that you’re right. We deserve to have a proper Christmas.” You stroke the velvet of Sam’s santa coat. The entire ensemble is ridiculously distracting.

“Where’s the hat?” you interrupt him. He just points over to a chair as an answer. “And a proper Christmas means a visit from sexy Santa, huh? Where did you get this suit?” You’re starting to push the jacket back on his shoulders, starting to take it off of him. Sam lets you, puffing out his chest for you to pepper with kisses.

“I borrowed it.” The sight of the old Santa from the day before makes you wince with disgust. Sam chuckles, “Don’t worry. I had it cleaned.” You’ve finally pulled the jacket off of Sam and let it pool on the ground behind him. You slide your fingers up and down on one of the black suspenders holding his pants up. Sam looks like a sexy calendar fireman except in red velvet pants.

“And what exactly was your plan with this Santa suit? Were you gonna sit me on your lap and tell me I’ve been naughty?” You can visibly see Sam’s hard swallow.

“I’m–I’m actually here as Santa to deliver a present,” Sam says and there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“But Sam, I didn’t get you anything!” you protest. Sam shifts from one foot to the other and his hands are fiddling with his pockets.

“Well that actually just depends on your answer to this question.” Sam pulls his hands out of his pockets and in his right hand is a black box. You gasp as Sam drops to one knee. “Y/N, even though we’ve only known each other for almost two years…I can’t remember what my life was like before you…I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without knowing you…without being with you…and I’ve certainly never loved anyone more than I love you…will you marry me?”

Sam pulls back the top on the black box and inside is a beautiful diamond ring with three stones and a sterling silver band. Your hands are shaking as you cover your mouth.

“Are you…are you serious?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t joke about this,” Sam mumbles. He looks even more nervous as if the longer you take to answer, the higher the chance of you saying no. But you giggle and run your fingers through your hair.

“Well it’s hard to tell when you’re dressed as freaking Santa! Who does this?!” You’re deliriously happy–so happy that you don’t actually realize that you’re prolonging Sam’s proposal by withholding an answer.

“A man who thinks your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world. A man who knows that you’d find it sweet, cheesy and hilarious,” Sam says as if he’s defending his honor. “So what do you say?”

You drop to your knees and throw yourself into Sam’s arms. “Yes! A thousand times and forever, yes!” You respond with tears in your eyes. Sam buries his face into your neck, holding you tightly against him for a moment. Then he puts some space between you two. He takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto your left ring finger. “It fits perfectly,” you say, breathless. Sam chuckles.

“That’s because I may have borrowed one or two of your rings from your jewelry box back home,” he sheepishly admits. You giggle.

“You’re so resourceful. Right down to finding a Santa suit.” You tug on the suspenders and Sam quirks a curious eyebrow at you and your aggressive grip.

“You like the suit, don’t you?” The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk.

“I think you dressed in suspenders and no shirt looks sexy as hell,” you growl. You slide your hands down Sam’s chest and to his abs, you fingernails leaving a temporary trial in their wake. “Do you have any other presents for me to unwrap?” you ask suggestively, licking your lower lip. One of Sam’s hands cups your face while the other grasps your ass.

“Why do you think I reserved us the honeymoon suite? I’ve been dying to get you alone for days.” Sam’s mouth claims yours before you even have a chance to voice your agreement. It feels like it’s been weeks…but maybe it’s been almost two weeks since you’ve had sex…but that is _too damn long_ when you have Sam Winchester for a boyfriend.

You moan into his mouth, parting your lips for his tongue to enter and dance with yours. Sam wastes no time in rising to his feet and bringing you with him. He wraps your legs around his waist and carries you to the large king size bed with red silk sheets.

He strips you out of your pajamas with ease until it’s just your soft skin, white lace panties and a gorgeous ring on your finger. Sam stands at the foot of the bed and toys with the suspenders. He takes his sweet time sliding them off his shoulders, watching your squirm, clenching and unclenching your legs for relief to the aching wetness.

“You look so fucking good in red, Baby,” you whisper in a husky voice. It looks like Sam maybe blushes as he unbuttons his pants. When he drops them and you’re left to look at his plaid boxer briefs–which are straining with his erection–you burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Sam growls as he crawls onto the bed and towards you. He pulls a little harder than necessary at your panties to take them off and you think you hear them tear a bit. The idea of your boyfriend ripping your panties off and ravaging you turns you on even more.

“I was hoping that you’d be wearing Christmas-themed boxers,” you laugh, trying to pout and sound disappointed.

“I didn’t see the point since I wasn’t planning on wearing them long,” is Sam’s reply and true to his word he shucks off his boxers and lays his body over yours. His skin is so hot against yours. You’re already slick with a thin sheen of sweat and it complements his heat well by cooling you off.

Sam’s hands roam all over your body as he kisses you, stealing away your breath and making your heart pound. You feel his hard cock bobbing near your sex and you know that you’re so slick that you’ve been ready for him for several minutes but he’s drawing it out.

He grinds his body against yours, rolling his hips and sliding the length of his cock along your slit but never inside. It’s maddening and you’re trying to grab at his ass and coax him to enter you but he’s so damn tall that your hand can’t even reach his butt.

“Fuck, Sam!” He freezes like he’s worried that he’s hurt you. Sometimes he’s worried about putting all of his weight on top of you but you love it. You don’t want him to _get off of you_ , you want him…your fiance…to _get you off_. “Please, Sam, please Baby, I can’t take it anymore. I need you. I need to feel you inside of me,” you plead. With a triumphant smile–because Sam loves to tease you every time–he positions his cock at your entrance and slams into you. You cry out as he fills you to the hilt.

“I really want to take it slow and make love to you, sweetheart,” Sam whispers in your ear through clenched teeth as he starts to slowly pump in and out of you. “But I need you so badly too. I can’t go slow just yet. I will the next time tonight,” he promises. You nod your consent and then Sam’s mouth crashes into yours–your teeth nearly colliding–as he starts pounding into you.

For several long minutes, the only sounds in this romantic hotel room was the noise of skin slapping against skin, grunts and groans, hissing breaths through clenched teeth, and whimpers from you as Sam holds onto your body so tightly that he’ll likely leave bruises on your shoulders, hips and breasts.

One of the many benefits of being Sam Winchester’s girlfriend…fiancee…is multiple orgasms. Sam has great stamina and knows what to do with his body to please you over and over again. But tonight, you don’t come multiple times.

You feel yourself on the edge for what feels like ten minutes but you never come, the pressure just continues to build and build. The pleasure tenses up your body, has you writhing like you’re in pain when it’s the exact opposite. Sam is trying to watch you for any signs that he should slow down but your heat just gets tighter and tighter around him and he can’t help but thrust harder and deeper until finally you explode and your back arches off the bed and you’re screaming Sam’s name and Sam is moaning your name as he comes too. He empties his hot seed into you and almost collapses on top of you.

You’re both gasping for air, chests heaving and eyes fighting to stay open. Sam slides out of you and stumbles over to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean you up wherever necessary and then lays down beside you. He folds his arms behind his head and stares at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” he says, quietly elated.

“Did you ever doubt that I would?” you ask.

“Only for a second,” Sam chuckles, “When you wouldn’t answer and just kept talking about the Santa suit.” You giggle and roll over onto your side. Your gaze lands on the Santa hat sitting on the chair next to the bed. You reach for it and place it strategically on Sam’s crotch, completely covering his softening dick. Sam’s to lazy too remove it.

“I will never look at Santa Claus the same way again,” you giggle. “Maybe it’s a good thing we Winchesters don’t celebrate Christmas.” Sam smiles at your use of his last name as a reference to yourself.

“Y/N… we will never _not_ celebrate Christmas again. It’s more important than ever now. It’s the day you agreed to marry me. We’ll never forget this.”

“Mmmm,” you lean up to press a kiss to Sam’s chin. “The Santa suit made it extra memorable. You might need to invest in buying your own suit because I’ll definitely want to see it again.” Sam chuckles.

“Okay, Mrs Claus,” he teases.

“That’s Mrs. Winchester to you, Mr. Sam Winchester.”


End file.
